


Remember me

by Kira7



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: (you'll know why), Abusive Heaven (Good Omens), Agnes Nutter's Prophecies, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Author loves Gabriel, BAMF Aziraphale (Good Omens), But in this case..., Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Lying (Good Omens), Crowley is So Done (Good Omens), Crying Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crying Crowley (Good Omens), Emotional Crowley (Good Omens), Emotional Hurt, Gabriel is a real bastard, Heaven is Terrible (Good Omens), Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Killing, M/M, Men Crying, Not Beta Read, Out of Character Aziraphale, POV Alternating, POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), POV Crowley (Good Omens), Sandalphon Being an Asshole (Good Omens), Secret Santa, She/Her Pronouns for Uriel (Good Omens), Temporary Character Death, They need a hug, They/Them Pronouns for Michael (Good Omens), They/Them Pronouns for Raphael (Good Omens), Who will Aziraphale trust?, Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens), amnesia!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:01:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28383648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kira7/pseuds/Kira7
Summary: Something is happened, Crowley knows this feeling, it's the same sensation when the hellhound found its Master. But when the demon runs to Aziraphale, he discovers with horror that something is changed.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Anathema Device
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35
Collections: Good Omens Secret Santa 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reachforfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reachforfire/gifts).



> Hi Ita, I'm your (very) late Secret Santa! 🎉🎉🎉  
> I'm so sorry to be this late, and most of all to not be able to give you the fanfiction in all its integrity. Things irl are a bit of a mess rn, and it's difficult to translate the ff in one take (If I had, you probably would have read it February '21, and it seemed unfair to make you wait so long.)  
> So, I split it in two parts, and here's the first one. I hope you'll enjoy it.

_"Friends, we're not friends. We're an angel... And a demon. We have nothing whatsoever in common. I don't even like you!"_

After a couple of weeks of restful sleep, Crowley suddenly opened his eyes, the hairs on the back of his neck had risen, his nails had turned into long black claws that had ripped the mattress and the blankets, while a shiver ran through his back giving him goosebumps. The demon took quick breaths to smell better the air in an attempt to pick up something, while his eyes darted in every corner of the room and his ears were strained, ready to pick up even the slightest noise. The state of alertness which he had woken up with led him to put aside the dream he was having.

"Something happened."  
Crowley was immediately awake, snapped his fingers a couple of times, and, as soon as he was ready, strode to his beloved Bentley, Aziraphale's bookshop as a destination.

With great relief, Crowley still felt the angel's presence on Earth, so nothing had happened to him, thanks Someone, yet the fear of not seeing Aziraphale again, immersed in his beloved books, with those completely useless spettacles and his beloved tartan bow tie, was still present. A year and a half had passed since what it had been renamed " _Armageddon't_ " (with great pleasure from the demon, he would have added, because Aziraphale had chosen a name like the title of Robinson Crusoe, far too long, fortunately that was old fashion.), but its side effects were still open wounds that required long and difficult healing times for the two supernatural beings. Of course, there was the bright side that Crowley and Aziraphale could date without looking each other's back, or inventing excuses to justify their clandestine encounters. They had become more relaxed, this was true, but for an angel and a demon eighteen months could be the equivalent of a day for human beings... Too little time.

How many times, during these eighteen months, Crowley had tried to get closer to Aziraphale, how many times he had tried to take his angel's hand, yet although he could be safe, his hand had always diverted the path, or stopped first. The only moments in which the demon hadn't hesitated were two: when they had to swap back to their own bodies and when the two had taken the bus to return to London, but those were for obvious reasons: the first was to be able to admire the softness of Aziraphale's body on its actual owner, the other is to... Well... It had all happened in a hurry, and he was exhausted in body, mind and spirit, he needed confirmation, that his angel was there, with him, alive and smiling, it was everything he needed at that moment. However, a year later, if it was Aziraphale who touched the back of his hand, or his fingers, or placed a hand on his leg, Crowley was the happiest demon in the world, he couldn't keep control of his body and several black scales appeared on his neck and on his fingers... Aziraphale, like the perfect bastard he was, giggled seeing him and then sighed serenely as he looked in front of him, without moving his hand away, making the demon next to him melt even more in love.

* * *

As usual, the evil Bentley parked in front of the angelic bookshop's entrance without worrying about how humans would react; Crowley got out of the cockpit, crossed the threshold in a few strides and, just as he opened his mouth to call his angel, a lightning white beam catapulted him into a well-organized pile of books, making him groan for the blow suffered. Taken by surprise, his mind raced to try to figure out who could be the culprit: he hadn't sensed any essence of some unwanted guest, there was only Aziraphale's, some human being? No, they weren't endowed with such abilities, and Hell was out of the question, the beam of light unmistakably belonged to Heaven's ranks.  
As he reasoned, his ears sensed footsteps getting closer and closer, they were slow, calculated, circumspect steps, belonging to someone who was studying the situation well to understand how to proceed; Crowley tried to move, the blow had been painful, he had experienced something worse though, but when he was about to position his hands so that he could stand up, a voice reached his ears, and his blood froze in his veins.

"Don't try to move, you dirty demon, or next time I won't be so merciful."  
The voice was Aziraphale's, but it was so cold, so detached, it wasn't really his. Crowley just turned his head to see who they was, and all he saw was Aziraphale a few meters away from him, arms at his sides, with a menacing gaze and pursed lips.

"Angel," he called, but he didn't see the usual reaction from the other, he didn't notice the usual and innocent blush that appeared on the cheeks, or the fingers that intertwined nervously and shyly, or the eyes that began to shine like the thousand galaxies he had created a long time ago. The reaction he got was an almost disgusted expression and hands closed in two fists.

"Principality would be better," Aziraphale corrected him in that cold voice.

Crowley, despite the pain in his chest, stood up and laughed, "Great play, really. I'm amazed, for a moment I was falling for it too. A real touch of class is to alter your essence to make it look like Aziraphale's, did he recommend it to you? Bastard and intelligent as he is, he might as well have done it. Tell me, Gabriel? Or Sandalphon? No, he prefers to destroy entire cities, he doesn't know the sense of proportion. Uriel? Nah, they loves physical manners, they wouldn't be limited to a simple beam of light. Michael, then? Your Lucifer, you know very well where he is at the moment, and Ligur, well... He's become part of my apartment by now. Maybe you're new to the trade and Up There they have given you the order to take the form of Aziraphale? No offense, but let me tell you, you pity! I know people who would be able to play him perfectly! Acting isn't your forte. If you really want to play Aziraphale, you have to--"  
He didn't have time to finish his advice, that he was grabbed by his collar and slammed into the nearest wall... How little knowledge this guy had here, they didn't know the basics, it was Crowley's habit to bump the angel into walls, not vice versa, even if it wasn't a bad idea, he had to recommend it to his angel, once this story was over.

"I told you not to move, and you moved. Now, hoping you understand, don't you dare say my name again, you foul fiend."  
Crowley got a better look at this stranger's eyes, they were so the same as Aziraphale's, yet so different... What blessed had happened?

"Then you won't mind if I call you angel."  
The false Aziraphale rolled his eyes as if he was annoyed.

"As I told you a little while ago, I prefer Principality."

"But you can also see for yourself that _Principality_ isn't good to hear, and then let's stop with these games, I like to play them with the real Aziraphale, not with a bad copy of him! Tell me where he is, so we can finish with this staging. Besides, hadn't it been clear enough that you shouldn't bother him anymore? Or did the Archangel Fuckin Gabriel tell you anything?"

The grip on his collar tightened, "What are you babbling about? You have before you the one, real and only Principality named Aziraphale, created to follow God's will and carry out His Ineffable Plan, born to fight the infernal hosts, guilty of being selfish and pretentious, deserving of no longer being wrapped in God's grace and no longer having Her love."

Crowley felt a pang in his heart and it was with an archaic rage that he replied, grabbing the wrists of that angel who had the audacity to claim to be his angel, "My Aziraphale would never have said that!"  
There was a moment of hesitation on the angel's part, but it only lasted a moment, Crowley was taken by force and banged his head against a shelf. He tried to react, but in a short time his world went black.

* * *

His head throbbed painfully when he regained consciousness, the demon brought a hand to touch the injured part and with a little diabolical miracle, the pain disappeared.

"Where are you, angel?," he rubbed his head a little more, sensing the presence of Aziraphale nearby he felt safe to be able to speak freely, "For Satan's sake, what a nightmare! Before I dreamed of our argument on the bandstand again, horrible... Then someone took your place... And... It wasn't a good experience."  
But to those words he received no answer, that's very strange, it wasn't like Aziraphale to leave him alone to his nightmares; Crowley finally opened his eyes and realized he was on the bookshop floor. Where was Aziraphale?  
Footsteps approached and the figure of the Principality again appeared before Crowley.

"Which argument on the bandstand?"  
Crowley's eyes widened, Holy shit! He immediately got to his feet, without taking his eyes off that angel who had Aziraphale's appearance, clenched his fists, began to have enough of this story.

"Where's Aziraphale."

The angel looked at him confused and somewhat amazed, "I can assure you it's me."

"No! You're just a fake copy. You don't give off any light that's the same as Aziraphale's."

The angelic gaze took on a tinge of curiosity, "And what light should I give off?"

"Of course, as if I say that tobyou, so it'll be easier to pretend to be him."

The angel sighed, "As I already told you, I really am Aziraphale."

"If so, tell me where you put your flaming sword, or what happened in Paris, or during the Blitz. Give me your opinion on Liszt or where the best sushi is made."  
Aziraphale was about to open his mouth, but he said nothing, closed it and turned his gaze to the ground, thoughtful, putting a hand under his chin.

"See? That's my point! You're not Aziraphale. You're just a--"

"Are you Crawly by any chance?"

"Fak-- It's Cr _owley_ , for duck's sake."

Aziraphale looked back at him, "Ducks?... Anyway, they warned me of you, they said you are skilled with words, enough to convince humans to eat the forbidden fruit."

"And we've seen the results. Now answer me."

"As for my... That cutting thing, I can assure you that... It's in a safe place, well hidden from your hands. I went to Paris once, during the revolution, trying to stop it, but I immediately returned here to London to fix a matter of utmost urgency. During the Blitz I was in a church to trap Nazis, unfortunately they died of a bomb. Liszt is one of the best composers who ever lived and an angel must never give in to temptation, and Gluttony is a mortal sin."  
At that answer, Crowley opened his fists in horror, the answers were correct, but they weren't true.

"Are you satisfied now?," Aziraphale asked with a raised eyebrow, "Or do you want me to answer something else? Otherwise you can just go away and use your tongue in another place."

"So, you really are Aziraphale..."

"I notice you are starting to understand."  
A few hours ago, the demon would have laughed at Aziraphale's annoyed tone, but a faint whisper came from his lips.

"What happened to you?"

Whisper that made Aziraphale suspicious, "Nothing out of the ordinary, reports completed, congratulations on my good work."

That set an alarm on in Crowley's head, "Did Above contact you?!"

"Like every month."  
Crowley preferred to get another blow on the head rather than hear those words, he settled on the shelf behind him and slid to the floor under Aziraphale's surprised gaze. The demon put his hands in his hair and squeezed some locks tightly.

"Strange that a demon cares so much about me. It is bizarre to say the least."  
Crowley would normally have said that he didn't care, that he wasn't the type, but this time he didn't answer, closed his eyes and inhaled, trying to stay calm and understand what had happened.

"You've been here on Earth for six thousand years, correct?," he asked.

"Since God ordered humans to leave the Garden."

All right, this part of the story was there. What had Gabriel and the other archangels been up to?!

"What happened when you opened this bookshop?"

"Why do you keep asking questions?! I have nothing to share with you, you cheeky demon. So go away!"  
Crowley looked Aziraphale straight in the eye, he seemed serious, determined and wishing not to have Crowley at his side. Even more wounded, the demon got up and adjusted his sunglasses, if Aziraphale didn't want him there, he would respect that decision.

"Oh well, yeah, sure. I'm just a demon after all, aren't I? Someone who will never understand and will never help an angel like you."  
Aziraphale remained still, motionless, with that fixed and imperturbable gaze that annoyed the demon.

"Obviously, you can't help me in any way."

"ObViOuSly," he mocked and turned his back to Aziraphale, but then looked back at him and walked over the angel, feeling a pang in his heart as Aziraphale took a few steps back, "So if your beloved side ask you where you put your blessed flaming sword, don't you dare say you gave it away. To Adam precisely, because Eve was pregnant and in the world out there were wild beasts ready to tear those two apart. Don't try to say that your sword has belonged to War for millennia. And don't think in the least about revealing that you never told anyone about this matter, not even God themself, and that the only being who knows about that stupid decision of yours is a demon named Crowley. Have a good time on Earth, _Principality_."  
Having addressed that greeting with contempt, Crowley decided to leave, leaving Aziraphale alone, in his library, with the only company of his thoughts.

* * *

A couple of weeks had passed, maybe... Ehhhhheeee... He didn't remember it well, time was something relative, as that crazy but brilliant scientist said, he liked his mustache, it was funny... Crowley drank another sip of wine, in a vain attempt to suppress his thoughts... Something had happened to Aziraphale, something with his memory... He had all his memories, but they were altered... Like... How... As... Besides the way in which the angel had treated him, it had been bad, sure, sure, if Aziraphale no longer had his memories then WINE!, here was the right simile! Aziraphale's memories were like stating that wine was nothing more than grape juice, right, but completely wrong!... That big head of Gabriel had to do, with his henchmen, was well established, the problem was how to solve the situation, like getting Aziraphale back to normal, the usual lovable bastard he was...

His apartment doorbell rang and Crowley lifted his head from the sofa, yelling as menacingly as possible "Who is it?!," he didn't want to get any visitors at the moment.  
The demon got no response, so he decided to return to his momentary pastime, when the doorbell rang again, making the occult creature nervous.

"For Someone's sake!," he began to scream as he reached the entrance, ready to frighten anyone who disturbed him, "A demon can no longer get drunk in peace?!," he opened the door without immediately noticing who was on the other side, "GET THE HEAVEN OUT OF-oh... It's you."

"According to God, yes, it's me."  
Before Crowley was none other than Aziraphale, the last person the demon wanted to see right now.

"How did you find me?," he couldn't suppress a note of hope in his voice, imagining a nervous and shy laugh, while those lips would have muttered any excuse, but it didn't happen.

"Your essence, it was easy to spot and follow."  
Certainly, his essence, not something like " _I remembered where you live, now everything is as it was before, Crowley!_ ," with that joy in his eyes.

Aziraphale seemed to notice the demon's disappointed look, so much so that he asked, "Did I come at a bad time?"

And Crowley shook the head, he would have liked to laugh and cry at the same time, saying that, despite the problem of memory, he was still the same stupid angel who cared about others; however he nodded, exhuming some of that cool air and pulling his best arrogant smile out of the arsenal, "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Principality?"  
Crowley did on purpose to call him that, he didn't like it, but he knew that deep down also Aziraphale didn't like it, in fact the angel lowered his gaze, his hands were still still, but he would have worked on it, he knew that soft creature better than anyone else.

"I'd like to talk to you for a moment, Crawly, if you don't mind."

The demon pursed his lips for that name, but moved away to let the other creature in, "Sure, come in."

But Aziraphale stood outside the door, "I-actually, I'd prefer a neutral place. Maybe a place where nobody listens to us, or notices us, something like--"

"Saint James' Park."

"How do you know that--"

"I just know, now let's go!"

With a snap, Crowley put on his glasses and jacket and headed for the Bentley, followed by Aziraphale who kept complaining about the choice of car, they could walk, or take public transport, or--

"Stop fussing and get in the car, angel."  
... Okay, this had escaped him, but Crowley preferred not to notice it, instead he started the engine and headed towards the park, managed to smile imperceptibly when Aziraphale began to complain about the speed with which he was driving. It was still Aziraphale, even if without his memories.

* * *

"So here we are," Crowley announced after the two had been sitting for five minutes on the bench in total silence, Aziraphale hadn't spoken yet, he was looking ahead with his hands folded on his lap, admiring the view and the people around them, giving off a calm that was making the demon anxious, so he felt the need to talk, to say something, anything, just to stop that deafening silence, and immediately felt guilty because such a thing had never happened with Aziraphale, they didn't need to fill the silence with nonsense, they could enjoy it, calm, serene, peaceful, why couldn't it continue to be like that?!

"Has the end of the world already happened?"

"Mh?," the demon finally had the courage to turn around and lay his eyes on the angel's profile.

"The end of the world... Has it happened?"

Crowley felt the need to take another position to stay seated and looked back at the pond, "Yes, not specifically, but it was on schedule."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Aziraphale nod, "As I suspected."

"Why?"

This time, it was Crowley who felt the angel's eyes upon him and unconsciously tensed his muscles, "And tell me... What happened?"

"What do you mean?," he asked, turning around as well.

"Did anyone win? Heaven? Hell?"

"So you don't remember."

"I didn't say that."

"But you thought it, admit it."

"I don't think you, a demon, can know what I think."

"I have a name, angel."

"And I have a much higher role than just an angel."

"Principality. You know, I tend to forget that, but at least I can't say it was someone's fault."

"Gabriel said they aren't responsible of this."

"ARE YOU SERIOUS? Do you believe that asshole?!"

Crowley jumped to his feet, it had been a bad idea to go out with Aziraphale, who at that exact moment was looking at him as if he were saying that fourteenth century was the best ever.

"It's logical to me, it's Gabriel, his word follows God's will."

"So when he told you to shut up, or to lose the gut because he didn't think you looked like a combat-trained angel, or when he asked you to die crossing a pillar of Hellfire, he said that because God wanted it."  
The angel's face lost its natural color, taking on more corpse tones, Crowley noticed this imperceptible change, in part he felt responsible for the pain he had inflicted on Aziraphale, but on the other hand he had to make the other creature realize that he was trusting the wrong people, again.

"... You're lying."

Crowley's heart seemed to break in that instant, his mouth and eyes wide open, his mind blank for a few moments, before fully recovering and responding in kind, "Do you think I'm capable of telling you a lie?"

"Of course, you're a demon, lying is part of your nature."

His nature? Okay, now he was fed up with all this nonsense, if this new Aziraphale wanted to face a real demon who lied shamelessly, then he would have it, give it to him, too.

"If that's the way it is, then let me tell you a couple of things," Crowley stood up and faced him, pointing a finger at him.

"When I told you that I had liked you since we met, on the wall of Eden, because only a stupid and naive angel could leave his flaming sword to two human beings, I was lying. When I told you that I found annoying but absolutely adorable your behavior, the great and precious bastard you are, I lied. When I told you I was mourning the loss of my best friend in his stupid burned bookshop, I was lying. When I told you that I would continue to carry on Miss Ashtoreth and Brother Francis' farce just to be able to see you every day, I was lying."  
Seeing Aziraphale's expression became more and more difficult due to his blurred vision, taking breath became more and more complicated due to an unknown weight that was growing in his chest, maintaining his human form became an impossible task to carry out; yet Crowley continued to spit lies upon lies to please his angel, while his mind rebelled and his heart wanted to be wrapped in the strong and comfortable arms of Aziraphale.

"When I asked you to escape from Earth to go to Alpha Centauri, I was lying. When I told you I would do anything to keep you from falling... I was lying... When I proposed that we could move in together... I was lying... When I said I wouldn't have been able to live without your bastardy I lied..."  
He had to sniffle and watery eyes, since when he developed a weed allergy?

"Now you know the truth, don't you? You can continue to follow Gabriel's orders, can't you? Best wishes for your new life, angel."  
Again, Crowley turned his back on Aziraphale and walked away, turned on the Bentley and headed for a destination unknown to him, the important thing was that it was as far away from his angel as possible. What had he done wrong to deserve this? Why did God never give him a quiet moment? Both of Aziraphale and Crowley had decided they no longer wanted to deal with their respective sides, so why didn't they want to set them free?

* * *

Aziraphale continued to observe the spot where Crawly had disappeared, when a hand landed heavily on his right shoulder, and a male voice began to speak.

"Really, excellent work, Aziraphale."  
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I still don't understand why you want me to do this job, Gabriel."  
The Archangel laughed and after a few steps he found himself in front of the Principality, smiling.

"Aziraphale, there's one thing that makes you loved by God."

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, not knowing the purpose of that sentence, "That would be?"

"You have so much compassion for your neighbor, that you would be able to forgive the unforgivable. That's why God loves you, but you see--" Gabriel made a face both contrary and sorry, "He's a demon, he can't be forgiven. Besides, he has done unforgivable deeds even for one of his vile species. It's our duty to get him out of the way."

"Shouldn't Hell punish him?"

"Look, sunshine, that's what has been decided, and so will be done. You have been chosen for this mission and you want to retire right now that you are on the home straight?"

Aziraphale bowed his head and took a deep breath, "It's just that... I don't know, this time too he looked hurt, angry... As if... As if he was grieved for something every time he sees me... He says weird things, like he knows me for a long time and--"

"Aziraphale," Gabriel interrupted him placing two hands on his arms, thus attracting his gaze, "You are a Principality, an angel forged in the art of following orders and fighting. Sure, you should lose some weight, but over time and a little exercise you will get back in shape. But now, you need to focus on killing that demon without using Holy Water. Maybe using your flaming sword mh? It would be ideal in cases like this."

The Archangel gave him a little squeeze on his arms with a grin that seemed fake, and Aziraphale smiled shily, "Sure, it will be... Tip-top."

"So I want you! Now, next time I don't want any mistakes, a nice snap, so we can all get rid of that nuisance once and for all."  
Aziraphale nodded and within seconds Gabriel disappeared again, leaving him alone.  
Something was wrong with that story, but who should he trust?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, happy late holidays and I wish you a very safe and comfortable new year! See you soon with part 2! 🎉🎉🎉


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley tries to find out a way to help Aziraphale recover his memory, but beware! Agnes' prophecies always come true...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dum dum duuuum!
> 
> We are in the second and final chapter, I apologize very much for the wait and thank you for your patience 🙇🏻♀️ see you below, at the end notes, guys! 😉 Enjoy 💖

The doorbell rang and, when she went to open the door, Anathema didn't expect to see that face again.

"Book-girl."

The occultist arched an eyebrow at that greeting, but she returned it in the same way, "Demon."

Crowley didn't even wait for permission to enter, moved the girl's arm and walked through the door, feeling a slight tingle from that horseshoe hanging over the door.

"I'm skipping, this time, on the question that I haven't given you permission to enter. Where is your friend?"

"That's the problem."

Anathema turned to take a closer look at Crowley, who had sat down on the sofa, tilting his head back and taking off his sunglasses to rub his eyes... His aura moved like mad, his edges were jagged, "Why are you here?"

"Is there anything that some of your seer relatives have predicted that refers to any danger?"

"... About?"

Crowley, after putting his glasses back on, turned to look at her, his arms crossed and his gaze focused, "Those aren't your business."

"If I don't know what you're talking about, how do you expect me to help you?"

The demon looked back in front of him, then lowered his head and, as he tapped his thumbs, took a deep breath to tell the girl what had happened, not everything, just the most important things.

"Is there anything in Heaven that erases memories?"

"Lethe was your invention, nice little story, but completely invented."

"A miracle, then?"

"What I don't comprehend is--" Crowley got up and began walking around the room, gesturing widely, "It's how he remembers everything but remembers nothing, after all. I mean, you ask him where he was in 1459, and probably he would tell you about a wedding that took place during Easter, which is true, but he wouldn't remember the infamous Christiani Rosencreutz, whose story we started inventing because we were both drunk. It's as if his memory had erased everything that concerns us." He finished the sentence by lowering his shoulders and bowing his head, in silence, in the middle of the small living room.

Anathema watched him, trying to find a solution, when someone rang the doorbell, taking her by surprise. The girl glanced at the demon, telling him to stay there, then she went to open the door; probably it was Newton, or the Them, but she certainly wasn't expecting a smiling man, dressed in a light blue short-sleeved shirt, blue shorts, knee-high socks and a blue cap with the brand of the company he worked for, with a tag attached to his shirt that said _Leslie_.

"A package for Miss Device."

"It's me."

With a cordial smile, the delivery man handed her an old, almost antique, but well-kept package, and before returning to the van he had Anathema sign the delivery document.

"Have a good day Miss." He told her when he left.

Anathema closed the door and studied the package, a small thought began to form in her mind, a thought concerning her ancestor... She unwrapped it and saw a small notebook, the girl closed her eyes, took a deep breath and then she opened it. There was an inscription, which read:

**_If light and dark want to be together,  
He has to remember.  
Open your eyes, foul snake,  
The sword will travel its path.  
A severe danger Thou shall take,  
Before angels will listen His Wrath._ **

"I think this is for you," Anathema expressed her own opinion, before handing the book to Crowley, but the demon didn't take it, "It talks about you."

Crowley stood still and looked at the girl questioningly, raising a doubtful eyebrow, what was he supposed to do with a book? He wasn't the book type, that was Aziraphale, at least until... Well... Before of all that mess.

Desperate to keep calm, Anathema read it to him, then gave him a probing look, "Sound familiar?"

The demon thought for a while, nodded a couple of times and then snapped his fingers dramatically, "If that's what I have to do to save him, then there's no more reason to stay here. See you."

He took the way out, past Anathema, when she closed the book with a thud, she turned and said with all the calm she had at her disposal, "That's all? Do you really think interpreting Agnes's prophecies is that simple?"

The demon turned back to Anathema, gesturing again, he had no time to waste, blessed be the heavens, "Look, the matter is simple. I have to find a way to get his memory back, while keeping my eyes open. Otherwise I can forget to wake up and find him reading a book."

"And the sword? What about it?"

This time Crowley smiled contemptuously, "The sword will be the other angels, and I'm not afraid of them. Do I have to face the other angels to get Aziraphale back? Well, I can do that. Ciao."

The demon came out of the Cottage, leaving Anathema alone with a question: could it really be that simple? Agnes' prophecies had never been easy to interpret... Since childhood, Anathema had had to learn the mechanics of how to decipher those messages. Perhaps a demon could do it in less time, yet there was something wrong, she could feel.

Anathema put the book down on the table, went upstairs to get all the tools necessary to study the prophecies of her ancestor and sat down ready to go to work. She had never regretted having burned the new copy of Agnes's prophecies, in fact, that had been one of the best choices she had made, and she had to be grateful to Newton for making her think about it, but this time two people, supernatural beings, who risked their life or memory, were involved, and the girl couldn't allow it.

* * *

Okay... He had to find a way to get Aziraphale's memory back, but how? Such a miracle would have been difficult, one thing was to stop time, another to repopulate the memories of his angel... Not to mention the danger that Agnes had foretold him... Surely Gassbriel and other angels wouldn't have been quiet while he wandered up Above looking for a solution... He had to prepare for the eventuality of a fight and, although he had hinted that he was immune to Holy Water, the very possibility of being able to get in touch with it caused a shiver that ran through him back.

His cell phone rang, but the demon paid no attention, at least until he heard that Aziraphale was on the other side. Only then made Crowley run to answer, without hearing what the other was saying, he, alarmed, quivering, hopeful, interrupted Aziraphale...

"Angel!"

But that spark of optimism, which had caused a tremor in his voice, died in his throat as soon as he heard Aziraphale's voice so cold, distant, impassive.

" _A certain Anathema has done nothing but ask me questions. And now she's continuing to call. Did you send her by any chance?_ "

Crowley suppressed a grunt of frustration, pinched the bridge of his nose, what had that blessed girl in mind?

" _Then?_ "

Crowley tried to hide the truth, "Not at all."

" _So why did she tell me about when you hit her?_ "

"Look, you were there too, that fucking night. She hit me. And it was you who offered her a ride, in _my_ Bentley. If you only remembered, you would know these things too, for Someone's sake!" He snapped, closing his mouth a few moments later, he didn't have to say it, he didn't have to say it! Crowley bit his tongue and narrowed his eyes, cursing that angel.

On the other end of the call came a sigh followed by silence, the demon imagined Aziraphale wrapping the telephone wire around his index finger as he stared at the ceiling of his bookshop, then he heard Aziraphale talking.

" _Can you come?_ "

Although the situation wasn't ideal, Crowley's heart still gave a leap, and his mouth couldn't hold back a small smile, perhaps there was the faint hope that he should not take any risk, that he could very well tell his angel all six thousand years spent together, which Aziraphale could believe him, as he always had...

"You, do you want me to come?" He squeezed the cell phone between his fingers, anxious to know the answer, then cleared his throat, trying to give himself a tone, he wanted to go back to being the usual feigned disinterested demon, "Obviously, I have to see if I have time," he looked down at his black-varnished nails, "I've had my diary completely full for a couple of weeks now."

If Aziraphale was ready to listen to him, he had to accept every facet of him.

" _But you've never left your apartment in the last few weeks, only to head to Tadfield three days ago._ "

"Are you spying on me, angel?," He asked intrigued, forgetting that he wasn't talking to his Aziraphale, "This isn't something that Up there willingly accept."

" _I have no time to waste with you, vile demon. I have to talk to you now._ "

The sentence had the effect of bringing him back to reality, a cold shower would have been less painful, "Coming."

* * *

Inside his bookshop, Aziraphale paced back and forth, his fingers intertwined spasmodically, Gabriel's words thundered peremptory in his mind, to be almost immediately replaced by Crawly's, which slipped sensual, like a caress, like the sweetest honey... The poor angel couldn't understand why his corporation was pervaded by sudden shivers as soon as that snake spoke. What damage had he done by having to be executed? Aziraphale still remembered the rant made by that demon, in the Park, had they really planned to move in together? He? With a demon? Could this be Crawly's fault? Him having attempted a Principality?

Aziraphale lowered his head, Gabriel hadn't explained the reasons well, or maybe he hadn't asked the right questions. The Principality remembered fallen angels for asking too many questions. He sighed as a weight formed at his chest: why did he feel this way? Why had that girl called him? Anathema, she had said her name, had asked him questions about how he was doing, what had happened with Crawly - even though she called him Crowley - what he remembered and if he was familiar with a little boy named Adam... Aziraphale knew how to answer, yet it all seemed so wrong...

Once he hung up the phone, the Principality had done everything possible to seek better answers than he already had, the memories were real, but somehow blurred, or incomplete. He knew for sure, for example, that he had witnessed the Ark being built, and how he wished he could do something, even the smallest and most harmless nonsense, in order to save a few more humans, but he was alone, and he remembered very well how up in Heaven they were intent on completing other missions. Yet, and here was where the memories became more blurred, he was certain that there was someone with him, someone who had managed to accomplish what he hadn't had the courage to do, someone who had saved children just to " _twart Almighty's decisions_ "...

The worst thing was that the Principality had the same problem for any occasion: he remembered, for example, when he had gone to a small church, to entrap some Nazis, then the explosion that had taken place, but not he remembered how he had saved those precious books from the bomb, since a human being was holding them... Just as he couldn't remember why that girl, whom he didn't even know, had asked him about Crawly, what did he have to do with his life? Why did he have to kill him, what had he done, why every time they met Aziraphale felt guilty, why that demon had yelled those things at him in the Park, who were Francis and Ashtoreth, why did they have to move in together?!

"Angel, I'm-- Aziraphale!"

The Principality heard fast footsteps getting closer and closer, followed by a small thud, he also had the feeling that two hands were about to touch him but it was just a wrong impression.

"A-Hey..."

Aziraphale took his hands off his face, he hadn't noticed that he was sitting on the ground and his cheeks were wet, at least until he saw his own reflection in that demon's sunglasses.

"I... Is everything okay?," Crawly asked, kneeling in front of him, hesitant, and strangely it was that uncertainty that made Aziraphale feel a calm and sweet warmth, similar to the love he felt for God, but somehow different.

"Yes," he replied, starting to get up, closely followed by the demon. "I suppose I have to thank you."

Crawly swallowed hard and looked away, slipping his hands into his trouser pockets, "Better not. Wouldn't that be against the rules? Besides, why would you thank me?"

Aziraphale was caught off guard, however he tried to come up with a plausible answer, "Well... It's not every day that a demon cares about a Principality," and he pulled his lips into a smile that he wanted to be as sincere as possible.

The demon shifted his weight from one foot to the other, he seemed embarrassed, he mumbled disconnected phrases, which made the angel laugh slightly, so much so that he was tempted to pronounce a somewhat risky phrase, for two supernatural beings who had known each other for a few months.

"It was kind of you to rescue your natural enemy."

"'M not kind."

Seeing a slight blush on Crawly's sharp cheekbones, Aziraphale brought a hand to his chest, squeezing it into a fist, wondering when the word " _tender_ " could have been applied to a demonic creature.

"Many demons would not have done it. You, on the contrary, didn't hesitate."

Crowley didn't answer, he was afraid of being turned away, kicked out, by Aziraphale, when the only thing he wanted was to help his angel get back something that belonged to him, his memory, the moments spent together, the good, the bad, the honey and the spicy ones, all of them, from first to last.

"Are you okay?," Aziraphale's voice seemed to have returned to his angel's voice, with the one big difference that his Aziraphale would immediately understand the source of his discontent.

"Why did you make me come here?," Crowley countered, he didn't want to say he wasn't okay, he couldn't lie, he didn't have the strength to do it.

Aziraphale seemed to come to his senses, at least in this new version, his eyes returned cold and distant, that slight smile disappeared and his hands returned to his sides, like a perfect soldier.

"I wanted to tell you about that girl."

Yeah, Anathema... Damned and stupid human.

"Look," the demon burst out, pulling his hands out of his pockets to spread his arms out as far as possible, if there was a victim in it, surely it was Crowley, and Aziraphale, both, both were the victims, not that girl, who apparently didn't know her own business, she had to poke her nose into situations that didn't concern her.  
"If you think I did something to her, I'll tell you right away that you're off track. She is all her work, I'm innocent."

Aziraphale couldn't contain an amused chuckle, "A demon who claims to be innocent is not very credible, you will agree with me, will you?"

But Crowley missed the question's rhetorical tone, he felt stung, "I'm more innocent than many other angels Above, take Sandalphon! He didn't go light on Sodom and Gomorrah."

The angel's face proved Crowley right, "He has some drastic methods, actually, but--"

"Let's take Uriel, then, capable of punching an angel just to remind him who he is in charge. And that's just the latest of many things they've done."

At that revelation, Aziraphale frowned, "How do you know their behavior?"

"Someone told me. As he told me about Gabriel, but we have known for millennia that ass has a chicken brain. Believe me, angel, you don't know how much I wanted to teach them the lesson they deserved for what they had done," he finished in a whisper, clenching his fists.

Noting the demon's state of mind, Aziraphale approached slowly, calmy, as if he were approaching a dangerous animal.

"Crawly, I... I don't know what you went through, or why you fell, but you remain a demon, and nobody can change that."

"Who said I want to go back to being an angel? Not me! I don't want to give up the best musicians just to have the love of the Big Boss on my side."

The Principality stopped for a second, observing the demon better with a frown, so what did he want?

"So what do you want?"

Very slowly, Crawly took off his sunglasses and fixed those inhuman and golden eyes on Aziraphale, they seemed sincere, as always, ready for anything, even to give their soul if Aziraphale asked, and that involvement overwhelmed the Principality in a way that he didn't know could be possible, he wanted to protect that occult and cursed creature, he couldn't understand the nature of what he was feeling, and it scared him a lot.

"I want my angel back."

Outspoken, straight, and sincere truth, Aziraphale could sense it, just as he sensed a wave of love and yearning coming from that demon, which was very unlikely, but it was happening right before his thousands eyes. That sentence managed to hit the angel's heart, so much so that he put a hand on his cheek, discovering an innocent tear that ran down his face. He was an angel, a creature created by God, who came down to love... How could he kill a demon unable to be evil?

The question frightened him, more than all the others he had asked himself, if he had continued like this, questioning God's will, he would have fallen, he would have become a demon, and he did not want, did not want to lose God's love.

"I'd beg you to leave," Aziraphale told, unable to add anything else.

"Aziraphale... I--"

"I'd like to be alone."

He heard Crawly hesitate a moment, then turned and walked out without protest; when the rumble of that infernal machine was far, Aziraphale had the strength to take a deep breath and sit on the sofa, with his elbows resting on his knees and his face covered by his hands. He had called that demon only to send him away a few minutes later, without talking about why he had called Crawly: Aziraphale wanted answers, he felt the need, he didn't know who to trust, his mind was telling him to follow the orders Gabriel gave, but deep in his soul he felt that he had to trust that demon, without any reason, it was an unfounded feeling, his... What should he do? What, what, what?!

"And this time too, you let him escape."

Hearing that voice, Aziraphale scrambled to his feet, tidying his clothes and, with a smile he didn't feel true, turned to greet his new guest.

"Gabriel, what... What a _pleasant_ surprise," why did he feel the need to lie?

The Archangel smiled back, starting to approach him, "Tell me, Aziraphale. Have you lost your sword?"

Aziraphale's hands, strangely behind his back, began to torture themselves, "No, absolutely."

Gabriel took another step, nodding, as he joined his hands as if in prayer, "And tell me. Do you see any humans here?"

The Principality looked around them, his bookshop was completely deserted, "No."

The Archangel closed his eyes, took one last step, so much so that Aziraphale had to back off in fear, and took a deep breath, "That demon. Did he ask you, by any chance, to spare him?"

The angel didn't have the strength to open his mouth, he only managed to move his head for a negative nod.

"SO WHAT?! DARE YOU DISOBEY!"

Aziraphale made a small leap, not expecting a similar reaction from his superior, raised his hands in a vain and humane attempt to protect himself, "Gabriel..."

Gabriel seemed to return calm, even though a negative feeling gushed into his purple eyes, "Tell me, what is the mission that was assigned to you?"

"K-kill the demon."

Gabriel smiled, "Do you know what happens to those who fail to fulfill their duties?"

Aziraphale bowed his head, nodding softly, the prospect of becoming a demon and passing eternity without being enveloped by divine light anymore terrified him.

"I hope you remember, next time you meet that demon," that said, Gabriel disappeared with a roar of thunder, which echoed inside the library and in Aziraphale's mind, leaving no room for his thoughts.

He turned a second out of the window, noticing how human beings walked carefree or busy, blissfully unaware of his inner turmoil. The Principality wondered what it could mean to live like this, out of any struggle, away from everything and everyone, enjoying peace and quiet, perhaps in sweet company, living happy and carefree with someone he could trust blindly, someone to whom he could entrust his life.

It was with a suppressed sob that the angel imagined, for no reason, such a life with that demon who, although they had only recently met, had never dared to harm him, physically and spiritually. Too bad it was just an unfeasible story.

* * *

"Next time," Crowley blew into his cell phone, "Make sure you don't interfere, book girl."

" _Next time_ ," Anathema's voice on the other side of the call replied, " _Make sure you don't enter my house asking for help and then leave without hearing the explanation._ "

Irreverent and commanding, Crowley ran his hand over his face, he detested and appreciated that girl, "At least you found out something?"

Crowley heard a sigh, " _He seemed very restless._ "

"Yeah, I know this."

He got no response, so he felt compelled to add, "I've decided to give him some space."

His heart clenched at the mere memory of his angel's state of mind, the demon wanted to help him, but he felt that he couldn't get close to Aziraphale.

"Could God be angry because Heaven erased the memory of an angel?"

Crowley shook his head as if Anathema could see him, "No," he added, "He didn't intervene when they decided to condemn us, for an altered memory She doesn't even wake up, assuming They're sleeping." He finished the sentence with an upward glare.

" _Who was Agnes referring to with '_ His Wrath _'? Is there anyone else who can use it?_ "

"All the angelic hosts can, in case of need. Rather rare, but better to stay away in those cases."

Anathema was silent for a while longer, before speaking, " _Someone might use it._ "

Crowley sprawled on the couch, tilting his head back, "Angels using their swords, someone will master the God's Wrath... All this just to recover Aziraphale's memory."

Then, like a vision, everything appeared clear before his eyes: what better way to unleash such a reaction up to Heaven than to rise among the heavenly hosts? Oh yes, he smiled wickedly, a dear little visit could make it, to his fantastic ex-collaborators. And most importantly, this time he didn't have to imitate being Aziraphale, he could unleash any catastrophe without limiting himself... Oh, what a diabolically brilliant mind... Up There they would have paid dearly for daring to hurt his angel...

"I found the solution, book-girl. Now I'm out. Au revoir."

He was so elated with his plan, he didn't even hear Anathema's protests when he hanged up... Aziraphale had priority over everything.

* * *

A couple of weeks had passed, Aziraphale was still not convinced that he wanted to call Crawly to be able to meet him and put an end to his existence. That day, the Principality felt particularly strange, as if something was about to happen, but what?  
He glanced upwards, drummed his fingers together, they seemed busy Up There, strange: usually, in Heaven there was a silence that was oppressive sometimes, a peace that didn't give any tranquility, but not in that moment, everyone seemed to be heading to one spot. In that place, which Aziraphale understood to be the Gates, there was an agglomeration of anger, aversion and contempt, feelings so strong and negative that they obscured a small tangle of sadness, despair and so much love... Good Lord, who was the source of those feelings?

He didn't have time to better analyze that energy, that Michael's voice screamed in his head, so loud that Aziraphale clapped his ears in a desperate attempt to muffle the Archangel's voice.

" _We have been attacked! To all the soldiers who are on Earth, get back Up! IT'S NOT A DRILL!!!_ "

Aziraphale opened his eyes: Heaven? Attached? It had never happened since the Rebellion... Although he didn't appreciate so much conflicts or having to fight, the Principality folded his hands in prayer, closed his eyes and concentrated.  
A white light enveloped him, a deep heat spread throughout his human body, a pair of white wings materialized and, once he was sure to reach Heaven in one leap, Aziraphale opened his eyes full of light and, with a blow wings, soared in the air, flying towards the Gates. He also called up his flaming sword, just in case, he didn't like this, the whole situation seemed bizarre and dangerous. Why would Hell have to attack Heaven suddenly? What happened during the end of the world? Why hadn't Crawly told him that and preferred to beat the question instead?

* * *

When he reached the Gates, Aziraphale found before him a horrible sight: spills on the ground there were burnt bodies of angels, some piles of ash, several celestial weapons... Several screams caught the attention of the Principality, screams that belonged to Gabriel and the others, he didn't understand who they were addressing, with a flash of light Aziraphale catapulted himself towards what he considered the last attacker left alive, grabbed them by their collar, and would also have ended their existence if he hadn't noticed who they were, his chest at the height of his human heart began to ache, his hands began to tremble, the sword was about to fall.

"Crawly..."

The demon was panting, slightly hurt, no longer hidden by his perennial sunglasses, and in those golden, serpentine eyes Aziraphale saw himself, scared, frightened, desperate, what was he doing?

"What are you doing here?" He asked, his voice trembling, unable to take his gaze from those eyes, their uniqueness was wonderful.

"... Aziraphale."

Crawly's whisper was drowned out by Gabriel's thunderous voice, which caught the Principality's attention.

"See, Aziraphale? This is what happens when you don't complete your mission."

"I told you it was better if Uriel or Sandalphon took care of it," Michael shot him a sharp glance, but the other Archangel didn't care.

"Mission?," Crawly asked, searching Aziraphale's blue eyes for answers, "What mission?"

However, the Principality's gaze was focused on his superiors, he was beginning to have enough of everyone.

"The demon Crawly has made a terrible mistake, and for that he deserves to be punished. But you have entrusted his punishment to me, and until the moment is right, this demon can still live."

Aziraphale felt Crawly's body tense as his eyes grew even more frightened, how much he wanted to explain the whole situation, and how much he wanted to ask him for more explanations.

"WHAT?!"

"You can't, you little--" Sandalphon was stopped by Gabriel's hand placed on his chest.

"Aziraphale. Maybe you don't realize the gravity. That demon dared to come up here and attack us."

"LOOK AT THE ASH STACKS," Michael yelled, "THEY ARE YOUR BROTHERS!"

"I guess there is an explanation for everything," Aziraphale countered, partly afraid of the consequences, afraid of falling, but having Crawly so close was giving him a strength he never imagined possible.

"YOU ARE DELIRYING!," Uriel interjected.

"The only explanation is that that demon wanted to subvert the whole of Heaven."

Crawly moved beneath him, addressing the Archangels.

"We told you that we didn't want to get involved in your business anymore. IT IS YOU WHO HAVE DELETED AZIRAPHALE'S MEMORY!"

Again with this story, Aziraphale was about to answer him, when Sandalphon spoke first.

"Not the best of miracles I've managed, seeing how much he still protects you demon, I'm used to more drastic ways."

The Principality widened its eyes, he didn't have the strength to pronounce any syllable, on whom had his confidence answered? On ethereal beings who lied?

"You can always fix it," Uriel suggested and Sandalphon smiled maliciously.

"It could be a good idea."

Crawly stood in front of Aziraphale, wobbly, but still standing and ready to defend his angel, "Try to touch him... And that'll be the lasssst thing you'll do."

"Despite having orders to kill you?"

"Despite the order you imposed on him," Crawly replied scornfully, "Because Aziraphale would never have carried out the order to kill me!"

Aziraphale felt a dripping straight into his heart, along with that wave of unconditional love, wrapped in a veil of fear, and he was able to understand what was the source of such strong and disinterested feelings. He turned to the demon, it was as if he was seeing him for the first time, even though his vision was blurred, he didn't remember, yet he wanted to.

"I wouldn't do that either now," he murmured and Crawly turned around, his cheekbones a rosy color and his eyes surprised as a small, genuine smile made its way to his face.

"I know, angel."

The Principality returned the smile, while two tears rolled down his cheeks, he also wanted to reach out a hand to hold the demon's one, but that idyllic moment was interrupted by Sandalphon, who decided to attack the demon: with quick reflexes, Aziraphale dodged Crawly and parried the sword with his own.

Uriel tried to intervene, but Crowley summoned a Hellfire, ready to throw it at the three Archangels, it was Gabriel who stopped her, holding her by the arm.

Sandalphon's blows were more powerful than those of the Principality, but the knowledge that Sandalphon had personally erased his memories gave Aziraphale the strength to fight him. How many things had he removed? Were they all memories about Crawly? How much had the demon suffered in seeing him in those conditions? What would happen if Aziraphale really killed him? How would he feel when, and if, he remembered? The more he thought about it, the more he was getting angry; this affected the blows he was inflicting on Sandalphon, so much so that Sandalphon said between blows, "You know you risk falling by doing this."

And Aziraphale would never had thought of answering him that way, furious and sad, "I'd rather fall than live following you."

Crawly turned, terrified by that statement, seeing that Aziraphale pulled Sandalphon back to charge an attack, ready to end the Archangel's existence; without thinking about it, the demon stood between the two, he didn't want his angel's hands to be dirty, he didn't want his angel to lose God's love, he didn't want his angel to commit a terrible crime. A very painful pang went through his body and spirit, but he didn't pay any attention to it, he only thought of smiling at Aziraphale, reassuring him with his eyes: he was all right.

The Principality, shocked, couldn't say a word, his mind metabolized what had happened very slowly, he could only mutter a no, while his eyes couldn't break away from Crawly's golden ones.

"Don't try to... Say something like that... Angel..."

Aziraphale recorded with difficulty the demon's words, dematerialized his sword and hugged Crawly to keep him, he knelt with the demon's torso resting on his chest, frantically stroked his hair, his face, starting to feel lost.

"Crawly--"

"You're safe... N-nobody will hurt you..."

Crawly raised a shaking hand, stroked angel's cheek, wiping a tear with his thumb, the Principality squeezed it tightly.

"Promise me that... You will remain an angel."

Aziraphale closed his eyes and tried to hold back some sobs, he couldn't believe he'd hurt the being he most wanted to protect, he couldn't, he didn't want to! The wound he had inflicted on the demon was spreading fast, Crawly's human body was being covered with black veins, his essence weakening more and more.

"I'm sorry."

"Shh shh shh... It's okay..."

"Please forgive me."

Crawly narrowed his eyes and denied his head, then opened them with difficulty, "I wish you could have seen Alpha Centauri..."

The demon closed his eyes and, despite Aziraphale's repeated calls, they never opened again.

Witnessing that spectacle, in which Aziraphale cried and despaired at the demon's bedside, Gabriel tried to speak up, "Aziraphale, maybe you should--" but he stopped as soon as he saw the Principality's furious gaze, his eyes had returned to emanate that blinding light, all three pairs of wings appeared and several electric discharges surrounded the Principality's body.

"Should I what, Gabriel?" He asked, his voice filled with inhuman echoes, making the glass in the tower tremble, "Destroying everything? That would be a wonderful idea!"

"A Principality can do nothing against four Archangels," Sandalphon exclaimed, ready to attack him.

When the Archangel ran towards Aziraphale to suppress his power, the Principality grabbed his skull with one hand and began to squeeze, the more he tightened his grip the more he became angry, while some white flames ran through his arms and legs and different eyes opened.

"Aziraphale, you're exaggerating!" Gabriel called him back, a drop of fear had settled in his lilac eyes: why wasn't God punishing one of Her sons?

"I don't think so. I think it's time you learn a lesson," he turned his attention back to Sandalphon, starting to squeeze again, "Shall we start with you?"

The screams of the Archangel spread throughout Heaven, he also tried to change his appearance, hoping to reverse the situation, but the Wrath that Aziraphale emanated was destabilizing him; Uriel tried to get close, but several shockwaves caused by Aziraphale didn't get her close despite her numerous attempts. Michael glanced at Gabriel, but their brother seemed lost, so with all the calm they ware capable of they spoke, like the perfect commander of the angelic hosts.

"What do you want, Aziraphale?"

"I want this Archangel to suffer pain."

"I can help you. We can make a fair trade."

Compromising wasn't their style, but Michael was the only one who could keep a cool head at the time, "What do you want?"

After a few moments of silence, Aziraphale spoke, two other heads appeared next to his human head, one of a lion and the other of an eagle, "I want the demon to come back to life. And I want my memory back."

Michael assessed the situation, while Gabriel signaled that it wouldn't be possible, then the one who had the strength to bring down their beloved brother opened their mouth and declared solemn.

"There are those who can grant your requests. In exchange, however, you will have to release Sandalphon."

"He deserves to stop living."

"Not if you want your lousy demon to come back to life," Michael replied. Better to grant a forbidden miracle than to trigger a second rebellion.

Several moments passed before Aziraphale threw Sandalphon's body in the direction of the other Archangels, much ruined, but it was little what he had let through. As Gabriel rushed to check Sandalphon's condition, Michael nodded and asked Uriel to call their latest brother. Uriel opened her eyes wide in surprise, she tried to reply, however Michael with a command well imparted made her run.

Very calmly, the Principality returned to normal, but he didn't take his eyes off Sandalphon, he could not let it go.

"Once you get what you want," Michael told him, as if they had read his mind, "You and your demon will be banned from Heaven. You will no longer have intercourse with us. Any angel found talking to you will be executed."

"I don't ask for anything better," he longed to be able to turn his gaze to Crawly, but the feeling that Michael was taking advantage of it to do justice didn't take his eyes off the three Archangels.

In a beam of light, Uriel arrived with a celestial creature with long honey-colored hair, amber skin and slender fingers, they didn't have the guild of a soldier, they was too thin to fight. As soon as Aziraphale saw that creature's green eyes, he instantly recognized them, "Raphael."

The Archangel smiled warmly at him, "Hi Aziraphale."

"Raphael," Michael broke in coldly, "You must bring the demon back to life and restore Aziraphale's memory."

"I see that all of you have stopped being presumptuous, our Mother will be happy."

"RAPHAEL!"

The Archangel raised their hands in surrender and flew close to Crawly's body, rubbed their hands, which began to emanate a golden and green light, and placed them on the demon's body: his soul wasn't completely lost, the wounds from the flaming swords weren't as lethal as the Holy Water, they only weakened the demons.

Aziraphale held his breath until Raphael's hands no longer shone, he turned a doubtful, hopeful and frightened expression to the Archangel, who smiled understandingly.

"Just enough time to fix you and your demon will be as good as new."

They approached the Principality, "I'm sorry, you will only feel a small prickle and a burning pain," they reached out their hands ready to wrap Aziraphale's head, "May I?"

Aziraphale closed the distance and lowered his eyelids, took a deep breath to relax, he had to remain calm.

Inside his spirit, the Principality felt something giving him a sensation similar to tingling, while inside his human skull he felt something hot forcibly enter him; Aziraphale had an instinct to fight that feeling, but he knew it was wrong, he just had to let the pain flow, the less he held the more he remembered: Crowley's laughter, the nights spent drinking with Crowley, Crowley's eyes staring at him behind his sunglasses, Crowley interpreting Lady Ashtoreth, Crowley saving his books during the Blitz, Armageddon't (name completely invented by Crowley, much to his chagrin), Crowley's voice broken at the pub a few hours before meeting again at Tadfield's airport, Crowley, Crowley, Crowley!

The angel narrowed his eyes, while his hands closed in a two fists, he didn't want to forget Crowley anymore, he didn't want to forget that beautiful and irresistible snake, so sweet, kind, good--

"That's it," Raphael quietly announced, taking their hands off his head, smiled satisfied with their work, "Now you are the same as before."

Aziraphale opened his eyes full of tears, he didn't even have time to thank Raphael that Michael spoke, "As agreed, from now on Principality Aziraphale and the demon Crowley will be banned from Heaven. Shoo!," they then waved a hand and the couple was enveloped in an orange light, to finally disappear.

"You said no angel could talk to them anymore," Gabriel pointed out.

Michael turned back, "He's still a soldier. Even if I hope it never happens, we might want to call him back in case of need. Raphael, take care of Sandalphon too."

The Archangel sighed and then walked over to their brother, "First you mess up, then call Raphael to fix it."

"Do you want to lead the angelic hosts?," Michael had a hard time keeping their cool.

"No, thank you, I have too much fun criticize you later."

* * *

Aziraphale, with Crowley's body, found himself inside his bookshop, looked around for a second, and then turned his full attention to his demon, he also did a small miracle to fix his clothes, ruined amd scorched in some places, Crowley didn't like to look like this, Aziraphale also cleaned his face and rearranged his hair, he didn't think about sunglasses, just because he thought it was a real shame to hide those wonderful eyes, Crowley had beautiful eyes, he always told him, and he wanted to keep telling him. Crowley, how odd it felt to have called him Crawly for weeks... Crowley was definitely a perfect name, suited its owner. The angel stroked the demon's face, waiting for him to wake up; of all the Archangels, the only one he trusted was Raphael, who had always been super partes, so he could be sure that his snake was safe and sound.

Crowley began to make grimaces with his face and with difficulty he opened his eyes, finding two blue eyes smiling at him.

"Where... Are we?" He asked hoarsely, then clearing his throat.

"We're safe, Crowley."

The demon looked at him for a moment, studied him, then smiled faintly, "You're back, angel."

Aziraphale nodded slowly, "I couldn't be without you, my dear."

Crowley sat up, without taking his eyes off the angel, his hands trembled, his human heart drummed so hard against his chest it hurt, a smile was growing on his face and his pupils dilated. On the other hand, Aziraphale looked at Crowley with eyes full of tears, his lip quivering despite the smile, his shoulders tense and a warmth pervaded his whole human body.

"Aziraphale."

"Crowley."

The two supernatural beings, driven by a strong desire to feel the other against their body, couldn't suppress the need to hug each other, both began to cry on the other's shoulder for various reasons.

"You're back."

"I'm so sorry."

"No, angel, everything is... Everything is fine."

"Please forgive me. I... I shouldn't have--"

"It's you who must forgive me... I couldn't do anything to help you..."

"No, no. My sweet creature, you have been close to me. You have - you tried to make me remember... What did I did to deserve you."

Crowley held him even tighter, while Aziraphale stroked his hair. The warmth of the two bodies so close was like a balm for their spirits, they both felt complete again, they didn't feel any need to break away, they just wanted to be together.

"I thought I had lost you forever."

"Me too."

For a couple of days they crouched in that position, without sleeping or eating, exchanging whispered words, sweet words, words of love, enjoying each other's company, the bookshop as their only witness.

* * *

A week had passed since that bad incident, Crowley and Aziraphale were sitting on the comfortable couch in the bookshop, their fingers intertwined, the red head resting on the angel's shoulder, both with their eyes closed, still savoring the peace and tranquility of that moment; the soft light of the room made the environment welcoming and comfortable.

"How did it happen," Crowley broke the silence with that whisper.

Aziraphale took a deep breath and settled himself, while Crowley raised his head a little and then rested it on his shoulder.

"Uriel and Sandalphon showed up here. Uriel was inspecting the environment, I think to verify that I was alone, while Sandalphon had started talking about an assignment they had for me. I had tried to tell them that I wasn't interested anymore, since when they tried to... Well-- shortly after the end of the world."

"Armageddon't, angel, that's much quicker to say it," Crowley corrected with a slight smile, despite the tale.

Aziraphale gave him a look of offended reproach, but then continued as if nothing had happened, "Sandalphon said that it was thanks to that trick you showed them, the breathing fire one, that, to be exact, I would have never--"

"Angel."

"And he gave me a folder."

"And you opened it?!"

Aziraphale snorted indignantly, "Of course not, my dear, I'm not that naïve. I was still inspecting it when Sandalphon took my memories away. Once I became that Aziraphale, Uriel started talking. She told me there was a demon here, in London, the name was Crawly, whom I had to kill. In the folder was all the documentation about you."

Crowley raised his head, grinning, "I hope they wrote some very bad things."

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows, pretending to be scandalized, "The worst I've ever read," he enjoyed Crowley's chuckle, who came back to snuggle up on his shoulder and decided to rest a leg upon his, "But it was reported that you were immune to Holy Water, they speculated that the fire sword, even if I had to inflict several blows, could work."

"Mh. Didn't you understand it was you?"

"I was starting to suspect that something had happened, but I couldn't help but trust them."

Crowley remained silent and moved his head to hide his eyes in the crook of Aziraphale's neck.

"I hope you can forgive me someday," he whispered, still he felt guilty for how he had behaved, for what he had done to Crowley Above, for everything.

Crowley reached out to caress the soft abdomen of his angel, inhaled the smell of him, it tasted of cocoa and powder, it was beautiful, "'S no prob."

Aziraphale let out a sigh and closed his eyes, it would have been a long time before he was able to forgive himself for what he had done.

"How did they alter your memory, I mean--" Crowley raised his head so he could look at him, frowning, "You remembered everything, but you didn't remember me."

Aziraphale glanced quickly at the demon, then averted it, his fingers had begun to drum on his knee, his lips tightened in a grimace.

"What?"

"Uhm," he licked his lips, he hadn't the courage to look at Crowley, he felt a heat rising up his neck, "I had altered some documents... And they relied on these to create a new memory in me, not having met you, especially in those unofficial encounters."

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Crowley was starting to smile devilishly, here he was about to comment.

"So, you, did you really go to Paris to stop the revolution?" He began to laugh.

"That was the intent."

"Oh yeah, sure," he nodded, he pretendedly convinced, "A revolution born of a wrong crêpes dough! You know, I see you arguing about certain things, fussy as you are."

Aziraphale smiled against his will, turned his eyes to Crowley and began to laugh too, followed by the demon.

It would take some time to completely heal that moral and new wound they both had, but they both knew they would make it, they had so many projects to accomplish together, now that they were banned from Heaven, together they would be able to overcome that obstacle, together they would always remember the past and together they would create new and happy memories. One step at a time, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thank [mabsgatos](http://mabsgatos.tumblr.com) for organizing the Good Omens Secret Santa 2020, I hope I have met Ita's expectations and I hope I have made all of you excited at least a little 💗 maybe, we can see each other again this December, or in the meanders of the fandom 😁  
> Stay safe, please! 💖 And wear a mask! 💗


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